CHAPTER 14

'Where's Cantelli?' Horton asked, trying to hide his annoyance that it was Walters who was collecting him from the Hayling Ferry on the Portsmouth side.

'Problems at home,' Walters said seemingly unconcerned.

Damn, Horton had been planning on Cantelli dropping him off outside Lucy's flat, but now he'd have to postpone his visit. He couldn't ask Walters to take him there, because Walters could go running to Uckfield with the news.

Walters sneezed loudly out of the car window. Horton was glad the fat DC had remembered to let it down. He stared out across the Solent. For the first time in a week there was no sign of fog. The hills of the Isle of Wight across a dull grey sea were visible. The day had dawned sticky, hot and humid. There seemed to be no air and the heavy blue-grey sky was pressing down on them. He would collect his Harley from the station as soon as Walters dropped him off. He dashed a glance at his watch. It was early yet just after nine. Lucy was probably still in bed, but whose? Had she eventually returned home last night or rather in the early hours of the morning?

Walters' voice broke through Horton's thought. 'Culven's Mercedes's been found.'

'Where?' Horton was torn between excitement at the news and annoyance that it would delay him seeing Lucy.

Not far from Briarly House. Blast, just one more factor that helped to point towards Melissa.

'There's not much of it left; it's been flashed up.'

No point in going out there then, Horton thought. It was best left to the forensic team. He said, 'Anything more on Randall Simpson's past?'

'Nothing, and there's no sign of this biography either. I reckon it was just a con.'

Horton thought so too. He opened his window to try and catch some breeze and dispel the body odour that was emanating from Walters. He also hoped it would help keep him awake. He hadn't slept apart from that first hour or so before his intruder had tried to roast him. He rested his arm on the windowsill wondering about Cantelli and his problems - must be Ellen. He hoped it wasn't too serious.

His mind turned, as it had done for most of the night, to his attacker. He had been too tall for Jarrett. The only conclusion he could draw was it must be one of Jarrett's employees. The radio crackled into life. It was Trueman.

'I don't think you're going to like this much, Inspector,' he began warily. 'We've had a report of a woman found dead in suspicious circumstances.'

Horton tensed. He heard the concern in Trueman's voice and his blood ran cold. His hand gripped the radio so hard that his knuckles went white.

'Where?' he asked, his throat tight. But he already knew the answer. He just hoped he was wrong.

'Fourteen St Ronald's Road.'

Christ, they'd killed her! When? After whoever it was had tried to kill him or before?

Trueman was saying something about the DCI, but Horton had stopped listening. He ordered Walters to turn the car round and head for St Ronald's Road.

Walters gave him a look that said, on your head be it, and dodged into a side street of terraced houses that would take them back to Lucy's flat. As he pulled into the street Horton saw that Uniform had the area cordoned off and a small crowd had already gathered beyond the cordon. Walters parked in the middle of the road and a constable lifted the tape, which they ducked under, and headed up the steps through the open door and into number fourteen.

Horton climbed the stairs with Walters trailing behind him. He steeled himself for what he was about to see, trying to repress his anger and frustration. Now he might never get to the truth.

'Who found her?' he asked, pausing in the doorway his eyes registering the scene before him and his heart pounding. Lucy's naked body was sprawled on the bed. Her eyes were open. Her long blonde hair was spread out on the bed behind her; Horton could see its dark roots. Her throat was livid with the marks of strangulation.

Marsden was watching him carefully from the far side of Lucy's bed. His back to the window, which led out on to a fire escape; his fair, angular face pale. He looked a little shaken and also a little afraid. Of him, Horton thought.

'Jane Staveley. She's waiting in the flat next door,' Marsden replied. 'She ran there as soon as she discovered the body. The flat belongs to a man called Simon Howgate. I think he's Jane's boyfriend but she says she doesn't live there with him. He left before we showed up. Do you think I ought to put a call out for him, sir?'

'Let's get some facts first.' Behind him he could hear Walters' laboured breathing. 'Who's with Jane Staveley now?' He wondered if his voice sounded as tense as he felt.

He should have prevented this. Had Lucy been dead last night when he had knocked on her door? If so, then the girl opposite could give a description of him. Had the attempt on his life been designed to stop him getting to Lucy before she could be silenced forever?

Now that his first sense of shock and outrage was beginning to ease, he felt pity for her. She looked so young, so innocent, even though he knew she wasn't the latter. For the first time he wondered who her parents were. Where had she come from? What was her background?

He peeled his eyes away from the bed and gazed around the pathetic little room: the dirty curtains hanging limp in the sun; the smell of months - no years - of dust and fluff accumulating in corners and under the sagging, stained mattress; the threadbare square of a once red carpet that didn't reach the walls with dirty linoleum protruding from it, and the shabby, second-hand furniture probably picked up in cheap fly-by-night shops in the seedier parts of town; it still smelt of the old dead people whose houses it had come from.

He said, 'I'll talk to Jane Staveley. Let me know when the doctor arrives.'

Jane Staveley was the girl he'd seen with Lucy at Oyster Quays. Her very short skirt showed off well-shaped calves and over-large thighs. A skimpy top had slipped off her narrow hunched shoulders displaying a large tattoo in the shape of a flower on her right shoulder. She didn't look any more than twenty. Her mascara had run where she had been crying and she sniffed into a sodden tissue. He saw hostility in her muddy brown eyes as he entered.

He began gently. 'Jane, I know this must be very upsetting for you, but do you think you could tell me what happened?'

He perched down on the unmade bed beside her. The duvet cover had been thrown back, revealing a dark blue polyester sheet that didn't look too clean. This room was a replica of Lucy's with its cheap furniture and soiled curtains. In the left hand corner was a small sink, cooker and fridge whilst opposite in the far right hand corner was a large and very expensive hi-fi system. Clothes were scattered all over the floor along with unwashed plates and mugs, and take-away foil containers, some of which still had the remains of curry and Chinese food in them. The window was shut and the smell of the shabby bed sitting room clawed at Horton's throat making him want to retch. He didn't blame PC Kate Somerfield for hovering in the open doorway.

Jane took a deep breath. 'We were going to the beach. When she didn't show by the pier like we'd arranged I came to see why. I thought she might have changed her mind and gone out with her flash boyfriend.'

Jane brushed her limp hair off her face. Her gold bangles jangled noisily. 'I don't know; I never saw him and she wouldn't say. She just told me he had loads of money and was dead posh.'

'Did she describe him at all?' It couldn't be Jarrett, could it? He had money but Horton wouldn't describe him as posh.

Jane shook her head. 'No. She had a date with him last night.'

'When did she first meet him?'

'About a week ago, I think, soon after…'

But Jane had clammed up. She pressed her lips together, put the tissue to her mouth and glared at him defiantly.

'When did Lucy come back to Portsmouth?' he asked casually, though he felt far from it.

'Two weeks ago. Why?'

'How did you get into Lucy's flat?'

'And when you went in you found her exactly as she is? You didn't touch anything?'

'No. I called you lot straightaway,' she gulped. He was glad she had. Girls like Lucy and Jane usually didn't. Tears looked set to spill again only she sought refuge in her anger. 'I hope you get the bastard who did this to Lucy and lock him up for good.'

Some hope, Horton thought cynically. Oh, they might get him but he doubted if he'd be locked up for good. Someone knocked lightly on the door, and he saw Somerfield dealing with it. 'Have you any idea who might have done this to her, Jane?'

'Inspector Horton, the doctor's just arrived and the DCI's on his way,' Somerfield announced. 'Horton! You're Horton?' Jane asked sharply, widening her eyes. 'Yes, why?'

He tried to sound calm but his insides were churning. Clearly Lucy had told Jane about him. He sensed Somerfield's heightened interest and looked up to see her face impassive but her eyes full of curiosity. With a pointed glance at Somerfield, Jane pressed her lips together. Horton got the message.

'Leave us for a moment,' he commanded. Somerfield went but he could see it was reluctantly.

The room was stifling hot and the smell was making him feel nauseous. He wanted to throw open the windows but he forced himself to sit beside Jane and look at her with as neutral an expression as possible. Slowly and evenly he said, 'Jane, this is important. Did Lucy tell you about me?'

She nodded. 'Yes. She said you were nice and very dishy and she was right.'

'What did she say?' Horton ignored the compliment and the leer that went with it.

'That this bloke approached her and asked her if she'd like to earn a few extra quid. All she had to do was get you into a hotel bedroom and say you raped her, or slept with her or something, anything to get you away from there.'

'There?' he asked evenly, though his heart was racing. He wanted to hear her say it. He could hardly breathe. His body was tense in anticipation of her answer. He'd waited eight months for this. If only Catherine were here now?

'That posh gym. Alpha One.'

And there it was; said so simply that he was almost afraid he hadn't heard correctly. 'When was she told to do this?' Had it been before he'd accidentally met her or whilst he was drinking and dining with her?

'How should I know?' Jane said surprised.

Jane shrugged her tattooed shoulder. 'Don't know. Honest I don't. She wouldn't tell me; she was afraid that I might muscle in on her little game.'

Horton looked quizzically at her understanding her meaning but wanting her to say it.

'That's why she came back to Portsmouth,' Jane continued. 'She wanted more money and said she could get it easily.'

'She was blackmailing someone?'

Jane sniffed. 'I don't know as I'd call it that.'

'Then what would you call it?' Horton said scathingly, but his tone was wasted on her.

'Just a way of earning money.'

'Who was she blackmailing, Jane?' he asked, his heart pumping fast.

'I don't know. She just said he would pay quite a lot for his little secret not to come out.'

'What secret?' He was getting there. At last!

'If I knew that, I might have a chance of earning a bit of extra money on the side,' Jane said tartly.

'I thought you didn't know who her victim was.'

'I don't but I could put two and two together and–- '

'End up like Lucy,' snapped Horton.

Jane writhed. 'Yeah, well, I don't know. All I know is he's someone quite high up.'

Horton quickly picked up on this. It was as he had suspected. He hadn't been imagining it. 'In the police force, you mean?'

'She didn't say that, just said someone important like.' But Jane's dark face had flushed betraying her. That ruled out Dennings, Horton thought, but it still left Reine and his former boss, Underwood.

'Who was he, Jane?' he asked again.

'I don't know, honestly.'

He held her gaze but could see that she was telling the truth. Lucy had guarded her secret and her income well. 'Did Lucy ever say why she was told to lie?'

And now she was dead. 'And what about you? Have you ever worked for Alpha One?'

'No.' Her answer didn't quite have the ring of truth about it. She looked away and began shredding her tissue.

'Are you sure, Jane? '

'Of course I'm sure.' She wouldn't look at him.

'It might help us to find Lucy's killer if you were to tell the truth.'

He left a silence and in the end she was forced to say, 'All right then but I didn't work for them, Lucy arranged it.'

'Lucy and me, we were in that tower, the one where the body was found.'

'When?' He felt a surge of excitement.

'Friday night, just a week ago.'

The night Thurlow was dumped there. 'Why were you there?'

'Arranged through Alpha One?'

'Lucy said it would be all right and we'd get well paid. She'd done this sort of thing before, loads of time.'

'What sort of thing?' He could feel his heart knocking against his rib cage. He knew the answer.

'You know, escorts that kind of thing.'

'Who were you with, Jane?'

'I don't know their names; it was just a couple of blokes. They were into black magic, devil worship, bondage, that sort of stuff, and in that hole,' she shuddered. 'It gave me and Lucy the creeps.'

'How many of them were there?'

'What time did you get there?'

'About midnight. We were only there for about an hour. We were told it was a birthday surprise.' She sniffed and the tears filled her eyes once again as she remembered her friend was dead.

'And you didn't see the body in the tower?'

She widened her eyes at him. 'Are you kidding?' She suddenly stopped, her face blanched and her hand shook.

'What is it, Jane? You've remembered something?'

She gulped and nodded. 'I'd forgotten. Lucy went back. She'd lost her lighter.' Horton wouldn't mind betting that was the lighter he'd found on his boat. 'We'd got halfway down that track, you know from the tower, when she grabbed my arm and said she had to go back.'

'You didn't go back with her?'

'No way. That place gave me the creeps. I walked to the road and hitched a lift back to Portsmouth. Was lucky to get one, until the pervert who picked me up fancied his chances.'

'What was his name?'

'How the hell do I know? I didn't ask.'

'What was he like? What car did he drive?'

'Flashy BMW. He was about forty, fat, and stunk of booze. It was hardly worth the bother really but he seemed satisfied.'

'And what about Lucy? What happened to her?'

'Not much. She got back all right. I didn't ask how.'

So Lucy could have seen the body being dumped after the others had left. The killer, fearing that she had seen him, had silenced her. But it had taken him eleven days to do so. Why wait that long? Perhaps he was Lucy's new boyfriend. So was Jarrett off the hook over Lucy's death? It buggered up Horton's theory of Jarrett silencing Lucy before he could speak with her. His mind was still as full of questions as it was empty of answers.

'Have you any idea who the men in the tower were? It's important Jane.'

After a moment's hesitation she said, 'I know one of them was a dentist. He was joking about his clients. He was into bondage. The other one was a solicitor. He liked being beaten with a cane, sad bastard.'